My Last Hope
by Meggie-Mockingjay
Summary: Tansy Larkin is a 13 year old girl from District 11. She is reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. Her fate seems clear to all who know her, and all who don't. But can she prove them wrong? Or will the odds never be in her favour?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and welcome to my new story – I am very proud of this first chapter Thank you in advance for taking the time to read this – and please review! Xxxx **

**For old readers – I have changed my pen name – sorry if it confused you :P I made MunchBunchMeg when I was thirteen and I'm fifteen now so I thought it was time for a change **

…..

I stare out of the window with my head resting on my right hand, marvelling at the sound of the birds singing. A sharp _smack_ next to me jerks me back to reality, and I look up to see the face of my teacher glaring down at me.  
"Miss Larkin, would you please pay attention? This is the third time today I have had to tell you to stop staring into space."  
I feel heat rush to my cheeks and I bend my head in shame. "Yes Mrs Canley, sorry." My voice shakes slightly, and her gaze softens. She walks back to the front of the room and faces the class.  
"I understand that you are all nervous, but you need to stay focused. The reaping is not until tomorrow, so for today just try and enjoy yourselves, and don't think about it, alright?"  
The class nods and several people murmur in agreement. Mrs Canley smiles and then looks at the clock. It is half past twelve. School ends early on the day before the reaping, to give us time to get ready. Not that anything can ever prepare you for the Hunger Games. We mostly spend the extra time with our parents and siblings, enjoying the time together, for fear it will end the next day. Virtually nobody goes outside; for there is nothing to do except watch Peacekeepers patrol the streets. The cameras and Capitol people will not arrive until tomorrow, so for now the town square is empty and quiet.

I put my jacket on and pick up my bag, shoving my books and pencils into it roughly, not really caring whether the paper is crumpled or not. This is unusual for me; normally I place everything in carefully, moaning if it ends up crinkled. Today is different. Normality does not apply. I walk out of the classroom and down the corridor, avoiding the loose floorboard and the several buckets put out to catch the drips from the leaking roof. A hand tugs on my sleeve, and I turn around to see my friend Kim. Her hair is scraped back into a ponytail, and her nose is red. It is strangely cold in District 11 at the moment, and many of us have no thick clothes to protect ourselves against the chill. I link my arm through hers and we smile sadly at each other. We walk together to the front door of the school building, and then we pause. We both know this may be the last time either of us see this building. We silently say goodbye to the creaky floors, the leaking roofs, the doors that don't shut properly and the windows that allow the cold to creep slowly in, enfolding you in its chilly grasp. It's not much, but it's where we spend most of our time. When we're not in the fields with our parents, that is. But it is winter at the moment, and harvest is long since over. We have time to spend at school and at home, which is a relief. Taking a deep breath, I pull away from Kim and walk down the stairs. She follows, and when she reaches the bottom I pull her into a tight hug. Neither of us says anything, but I feel her tears making a wet patch on my jacket shoulder. I squeeze her tighter and then release her. Her eyes are red, and she wipes them on her sleeve.  
"See you tomorrow," she says, her voice cracking on the word _tomorrow. _Usually tomorrow wouldn't mean anything important, but now it is a word that brings with it a grim significance that stills the air. I nod and give her a weak smile.  
"I guess so," I reply, turning to walk away.  
"May the odds be ever in your favour!" she shouts after me. I grin as I walk away, feeling happy for the first time all day. I hold my head high and continue on home, determined to enjoy the time I have with my family, in case the worst happens tomorrow.

We have dinner, and then we all squish into my mother's large bed, snuggling together for warmth. My older sister, Jasmine, puts her arm around me and I bury my head in her soft hair. It smells of fruit, I think. It is the second year I will stand among the crowd of nervous children, waiting to hear what unfortunate two have been selected. It is grim, and I envy my older sister, who is eighteen and therefore next year she will be ineligible to compete. She made it through those six years of terror, so maybe I can too. My mother tells me to go to sleep, and I comply, realising suddenly that I am very tired. I will need my strength tomorrow, to face what may come.

….

**So what do you think? I had this idea last night and it was all I could think about today at school! Please review! Xxxx **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to my two reviewers for the last chapter – FrayNubs146 and .7 :D **

**Also thanks to all who are reading this – and I hope you continue to enjoy my story (and review!) **

…

_**My Last Hope**_

_Chapter 2:_

When I open my eyes, the room is bathed in the soft, pale light of dawn. I sit up and rub my eyes, before it all comes crashing down on me. Today is the reaping. My heart begins to race, and I feel sweat coat my hands. I climb out of bed and pull a pair of socks on to warm my cold toes. Trying hard not to tread on the creaky parts of the floor, I make my way out of the bedroom and into the narrow hallway beyond.  
Our house has two floors, but it is very small and rickety. We all share one room, my two sisters, my mother and I. I share a bed with my older sister, and my younger sister shares a bed with our mother. We have no electricity, but every year we are provided with a screen in our house on which we watch the Games. I creep down the stairs and push open the door to the main room of our house. It is a large open space with a table and four chairs, and an assortment of armchairs clustered around the fireplace.  
The first thing I do is pile some wood onto the fire and light it, as the house is absolutely freezing. I then curl up in the closest armchair and try not to think about the reaping. I do not do very well at this, because within seconds it is all I can think about. I cannot push it from my mind. I feel a lump in my throat, and I beg myself not to cry. I can't cry in front of my little sister. I need to be brave.  
I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and I hurriedly close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. The door creaks open and the feet walk over to me. I feel a hand on my shoulder and hair tickling my face.  
"I know you're awake, Tansy," Jasmine says, and I open my eyes reluctantly. Everything is so much easier when you are asleep. Horrible things can be going on around you, but you can't see or hear them. You aren't aware of them. It's more peaceful than being awake. Jasmine hugs me tightly, and then stands back. I notice she is fully dressed, but not in her best clothes. She is wearing her green skirt and the holey jumper she loves so much. She sees me looking at her clothing and ruffles my hair.  
"I'm just going to get some water from the pump, I'll be back soon. Be ready for a bath."  
With that she leaves, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder. As the door closes, I pull myself from the chair and trudge back up the stairs. The door to the bedroom opens before I push it, and my mother stands in the doorway. She is dressed as well, and her hair is brushed and clean. Hazel, my little sister, is still in bed, the covers tucked up around her. I smile at the sight, thinking of how adorable she looks with her hair splayed over the pillow.  
"Jasmine will be back with the water soon, you'd better get undressed," says my mother, moving past me and starting down the stairs. I nod and move across the hallway to the bathroom, which is really just a chilly room with a bathtub in the middle. I am about to remove my shirt when I hear a shriek from across the hall. I dart back to the bedroom and see my little sister crying and shrieking, entangled in her blankets. I run to her and take her in my arms, soothing her until she calms down. When she is quiet, I turn her around to face me and look her in the eyes. She is ten years old, so she can sleep peacefully the night before the reaping. But she hasn't, so I am curious.  
"What is it, Hazel?" I ask, twiddling her hair in my fingers. She sniffs and pushes my hand away.  
"It was a silly dream, don't worry."  
"Hazel, you know you won't be picked this year, you're not old enough. You don't need to panic."  
She looks up at me with her big brown eyes and shakes her head;  
"It wasn't that."  
I open my mouth to reply, then think better of it and settle for squeezing her shoulder.  
"You should brush your hair," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. Inwardly, I am ablaze with panic and dread, but she doesn't need to see that. I give her one last pat on the shoulder and then walk back to the bathroom.  
I undress and wrap a towel around myself. I sit on the stool and try to think about a happier subject. When I find none, I simply close my eyes and imagine I lived in a place where the Hunger Games didn't exist, where you could enjoy your twelfth birthday without feeling a sudden weight on your shoulders knowing that your name has been put into the reaping ball.  
Jasmine returns with the water, and soon I am lying in the bath trying to control my relentless shivering. I quickly rinse my hair and scrub myself hard with the coarse soap, before climbing out and wrapping myself up in a towel. I wander back to the bedroom and find that Hazel has gone downstairs. My best clothes are laid out on my bed, and I feel lightheaded as I look at them. These clothes only come out once a year.  
I put on my white cotton dress and tie a blue belt around my midsection. I reach under my bed, right to the very back, and pull out a dusty box. In it are my best shoes, shiny black ones that hurt my feet. I hate wearing them, I would much rather wear my sandals. Nevertheless, I put them on, and then see to my hair. I wring it out and rub it dry with my towel, and then I brush it carefully. It is quite long, reaching down to the middle of my back, and it is slightly wavy. I brush it into a high ponytail and secure it with a blue ribbon. I walk to the door of the bedroom and open it silently. I descend the staircase and meet my family in the main room. Jasmine takes my hand and we leave the house, not saying a word. Sometimes silence is best.

….

**I know this chapter was really long and not much happened – but I love describing stuff! Sorry if you got bored – it will get much more interesting, trust me xx Please review! xxx**


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